


were you lost, I would be

by tigriswolf



Series: Alternate Universe [219]
Category: Arthurian Mythology, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Anxiety, Bullying, Child Abuse, Dragons, Gen, Hogwarts First Year, Magic, Pre-Slash, Protective!Arthur, Protective!Merlin, Protectiveness, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-20
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2017-11-08 03:51:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/438835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigriswolf/pseuds/tigriswolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first thing the Hat ever said to him was, <i>That time already?</i></p><p>He said back, <i>What?</i>  </p><p>[Reincarnation!fic set at Hogwarts during Harry Potter's fourth year.]</p><p>[will never be finished]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Year 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title: were you lost, I would be  
> Fandom: Harry Potter/Merlin (BBC)/Arthurian legend  
> Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Dickinson.  
> Warnings: AU for Harry Potter; future! and reincarnation!fic for Merlin; has not been picked through for Americanisms  
> Pairings: none stated (totally preslash for Merlin/Arthur, though)  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 4475  
> Point of view: third

The first thing the Hat ever said to him was, _That time already?_

He said back, _What?_ He was the first wizard in the family, but he’d known all his life there was something different about him. Getting his letter had been a relief, even though only Professor McGonagall’s visit had proven he wasn’t mad.

 _You have the mind of a Ravenclaw,_ the Hat mused. _You are as brave as a Gryffindor, and as loyal as a Hufflepuff, if you find someone worthy of your loyalty. But, I see, my very young friend – you are cunning, and want to master everything, and will sacrifice whatever is necessary to protect that which is yours._

He wondered if he should be ashamed, to have it all laid so bare, and the Hat said, _No. You will need all your strengths for what is to come._

 _What’s to come?_ he asked, but the Hat ignored the question to announce, _You, Emrys Donahue, are a “SLYTHERIN!”_ , shouting the last word for the whole hall to hear. Professor McGonagall pulled the Hat off his head.

He was nervous, a feeling he was unused to, and far more excited than he could ever remember being, but beneath that, he felt expectant. Like he was waiting for something, but he had no idea what.

The blond Hufflepuff, Arthur Cornwallis, sorted right before him smiled as he walked past. Emrys smiled back, for a reason he couldn’t explain. He usually avoided interacting with his fellow students. They never liked him.

Headmaster Dumbledore talked about Defense Against the Dark Arts professors and Triwizard Tournaments, but Emrys focused on his food and remembering everything he’d read. His wand hummed in the wrist holster his father insisted on, and something murmured in the back of his mind, though he couldn’t make out the words.

Arthur Cornwallis caught his eye again. The boy listened intently to his tablemates, but he looked up meeting Emrys’ gaze. He nodded; Emrys nodded back before turning to ask his fellow first year about Triwizard Tournaments. Only one book he’d read mentioned them.

The magic he tried at home came easier without a wand – _accidental magic_ , all the books said. A child’s magic. The kind he’d done all his life. The wand was easy, too, but just telling things what he wanted them to do was easier still. Which the books said was impossible.

Of course, most of the modern history texts he’d read after discovering this new world also said Slytherin was the house of evil, which he knew wasn’t right, so. He’d take the books with a grain of salt and find his own way.

The prefects stood and ordered the first years to follow them, so Emrys did. He was excited again, and wondered what all waited in store for him.

The stones beneath his feet and over his head and lining the walls all hummed as he passed, and the portraits stared or inclined their heads, and he knew where every secret passage and hidden room was.

He figured everyone else felt the same and disregarded it. 

.

Emrys didn’t really make any friends until a month into school. He’d learned by that point that he was the only muggleborn in Slytherin; there were a few halfbloods, though they kept quiet about it. His favorite class was Potions because he actually had to _work_ at it. It wasn’t as easy Charms or Transfiguration, and didn’t make as much sense as Herbology. For History of Magic, he just read the book (all the books, actually) and practiced silently casting during Binns’ lectures.

But he had no friends. The students had been preparing for the Triwizard Tournament and the Slytherins stuck to themselves inside their quarters. Emrys was a first year with no political power at all. He didn’t care, though. He had never needed nor wanted anyone. 

But a month in, Emrys was heading to lunch when he head scuffling in a little-used corridor. He’d been taking the long way to get wherever he needed to go, exploring. The castle was fascinating, and he never got lost unless he wanted to be, and even then, he knew where he was. That had been true before Hogwarts. Strange things always happened around him. Most of them, he intentionally caused.

Emrys turned the corner to see three large Gryffindors surrounding a lone Hufflepuff – the blond from the Welcoming Feast. Arthur Cornwallis. He glared at the Gryffindors, hands clenched at his sides, chin jutting out defiantly. 

“Look at the duffer firstie, tryin’ to be brave,” one of the Gryffindors jeered, poking Arthur in the shoulder.

“I think he’s braver than you,” Emrys said, not even considering it. He’d never done anything like it – always kept to himself and let everyone else alone.

The Gryffindors and Arthur looked over; the same Gryffindor said, “And now a snake!” He laughed derisively, his fellows joining in.

“Three – what, fifth? – three fifth years against a lone Hufflepuff firstie?” Emrys asked, not even reaching for his wand. He’d do better without it. “That’s not bravery, my friends,” he said, turning _friend_ into a slur. “That’s cowardice.” He sneered, tilting his head and looking each of them in the eye. “I’m disappointed in the house of the courageous, if the Hat put _you_ lot in there.”

Oh, but that galled them. Emrys smiled. The secret passage behind Arthur opened and he fell backwards. Emrys lunged past the bullies and through the doorway as it slid shut.

“What just happened?” Arthur asked, slumped on the ground. The candles on the wall were lit, so Emrys saw his gobsmacked expression.

Emrys grinned, exhilarated. “I just made my first enemies!” he said, delighted.

.

Arthur was a pureblood, though his family never paraded around, flaunting it like some did. He explained it dismissively as, “We’re no one’s Ancient and Noble House, but we stretch back a ways.” He grinned a bit. “There’s even a legend that King Arthur was one of ours – I’m named for him, you know.” 

His mother worked at the Ministry, something to do with the Unspeakables (“Of course, I can’t talk about it!”) and his father owned a chain of bookstores that provided all sorts of books Flourish and Blotts refused to carry. Arthur was quiet and somewhat reserved, but he stood his ground and saw things through. “Mum was a Slytherin,” he said. “Dad, a Ravenclaw.” He shrugged. “I’m happy being a badger, though.”

He did tell Emrys, with all the bravado of an eleven-year-old boy, “I didn’t _need_ to be rescued.”

Emrys nodded, looking at his bright blue eyes and golden hair. He could almost see a crown, just for a moment. A crown would fit on Arthur’s head, like it had never been anywhere else. “I know,” he said. “But _I_ needed to save you.”

How odd. He’d never felt the inclination for anyone else.

.

Nothing kept Emrys at the Slytherin table during meals save it being his House, so with no fanfare and little forethought, he followed Arthur to the Hufflepuffs when they finally got to lunch. All of the kids nearby stared, but Arthur told the one right next to him, “Budge over.”

The boy did, and Emrys sat.

Arthur asked Emrys a question about their Transfiguration homework. After Emrys answered with a clear and concise explanation, another boy asked a different question. He answered that, too.

Lunch was fun, after that. And Emrys had his first friend.

.

The Slytherins and Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws, did not care what a first year, no name Slytherin did. While most of the students were concerned with the Triwizard Tournament and Harry Potter being named champion, three fifth year Gryffindors tried to make Emrys’ life difficult. During lunch, dinner, anytime they saw him in the hall – like they had nothing better to do than stalk a firstie.

Things might have kept on like that, too, except for Arthur. Most of the students would have thought the Slytherin had done something to earn being tormented – possibly just being _in_ Slytherin – but Arthur, in the middle of the corridor on the way to Potions, stepped in front of Emrys and told the older boys to leave him alone.

Naturally, they went for him and then the rest of the Hufflepuffs got involved. Because the bullies were cowards at heart, they backed off, but Emrys was adopted by the Hufflepuffs.

Arthur’s yearmates, in particular, seemed to take to Emrys. None of them were stupid by any means, but magic still came frighteningly easily to Emrys; he remembered everything he read, so he could explain snags first years hit in their lessons. Only Arthur knew that Emrys ‘borrowed’ upper year texts. He also asked his father for the books Emrys requested.

“You’re very good for a muggleborn,” Arthur had told him, that first day they met, after dinner. They were in the library, Arthur reading over Emrys’ Potions essay. Potions was also Arthur’s favorite, but his because he was a natural.

“Thanks,” Emrys said, looking up from his book about Merlin. “Could you keep that to yourself, maybe?” 

“Of course,” Arthur replied, sounding slightly affronted.

.

As the first Triwizard Tournament task approached, the halls were practically choking with excitement. The only person who didn’t seem to care was Emrys. But a few nights before, he couldn’t sleep: he heard something calling his name.

No. He focused on it and it became clearer - _multiple_ things were calling his name. interesting.

He snuck out of the dorm and then the common room. He considered fetching Arthur, but ultimately decided it’d be easier to protect himself than two people, should the adventure go badly. He hurried soundlessly through the castle, going from secret passage to secret passage, and then he was outside. The call was even louder, echoing from his mind down to his bones.

Whatever was calling him probably had to do with the Triwizard Tournament. He had no idea where he was going, but he went past the Forbidden Forest (which was next on his list to explore) and then hit a large, sand-blasted arena, which had not been there, last time he checked.

Past the arena was a pen of dragons. They were all looking at him, all drugged, and their wings chained shut. 

Just seeing it pissed him off, the most visceral reaction he’d ever had in his life.

_Hello, Dragonlord_ , he heard in his head, a chorus of four voices. 

“Hi,” he replied. “How… you’re dragons.”

“Quite astute of you to notice,” said the oldest, sounding a bit slurred. _I’ll speak like this. It is… easier._ A pause while she studied him. _We are for the First Task. They will try to steal our eggs._

Yes, Emrys could feel it now. All of them were female and full of eggs, about to lay. _Why haven’t you left?_ he asked, trying to speak with his mind. 

It worked, because the same dragon scoffed. _You believe we haven’t tried? We are bound by magic and iron._ She lowered her head. _So few dragons remain… we are easy to keep._

Emrys shook his head. _That’s wrong!_ he said fiercely, his anger thrumming through his veins. _You shouldn’t be chained._

For just a moment he saw the magic wrapped around them. He reached out and snapped it; the chains fell off. The dragons shuddered as fire engulfed them, burning the poison from their veins. After it faded, they spread their wings and stretched each of their limbs. 

_You… you release us?_ the smallest dragon asked hesitantly.

 _Yes_ , Emrys said. He felt small bursts of magic exploding, but had no idea what it was. He focused on the dragons as the two who hadn’t spoken took to the air.

 _Call us, Dragonlord_ , said the oldest solemnly, _and we will come._

“Do you have somewhere to go?” he asked.

“Yes,” the smallest replied aloud, sounding excited and young, delicately flapping her wings. “We all know of it, but only a few know the way. Thank you!” 

The smallest followed the others, leaving only the oldest and Emrys. “You should tell no one of this, Dragonlord,” she said. _Wizards think us no more than dumb beasts. None of them can hear us, and so none of us speak to them. The last of your kind died long ago._

 _My kind?_ he asked, stepping closer as an alarm sounded. 

_My mother’s mother’s sire spoke of a legend,_ she said. _A warlock named Merlin._

“We have legends of him, too!” Emrys interrupted. “I’ve been reading about him.”

Someone shouted. The dragon told Emrys, _Return to the castle. They cannot know you freed us._

 _Will I be able to talk to you again?_ he asked sadly.

She lowered her head, gently bumping him with her giant nose. _Any dragon in the world will gladly obey you, Lord Emrys,_ she said and then lunged into the air, roaring.

More voices shouted and spells chased after the dragons. Emrys kept all from hitting them. After the dragons were out of sight, he turned and rushed back to the castle.

.

At breakfast, all anyone could talk about was the escape of the dragons. Every dragon in the UK had vanished overnight, even the ones at Gringotts. The papers had a great deal of speculation but no reasons or facts beyond the obvious.

Arthur looked from the headline to Emrys, a question on his face.

Emrys smiled.

As the end of breakfast neared, Headmaster Dumbledore stood. The students instantly went silent. “Champions, stay after breakfast for more information. The rest of you, dismissed.”

Arthur grabbed Emrys’ wrist and hissed, “What did you do? _How_ did you do it?”

“Later,” Emrys muttered. “Meet me by the vicious tree after lunch.”

Nodding, Arthur let go.

The dragon had told him to keep it to himself, but Arthur was special. Besides, he might be able to explain why what Emrys had done was such a big deal.

.

“The dragons _spoke to you_?” Arthur demanded, dropping his sandwich.

“Yeah,” Emrys replied. “They were chained and bound with magic _and_ actual chains, so I got rid of both.”

“You… you got rid of – ” Arthur repeated incredulously. “Emrys, every dragon in Britain is _gone_. Do you know what kind of power that would take?”

Emrys shrugged. “It was wrong,” he said shortly. “It was wrong, so I stopped it.”

“Magic doesn’t _work like that_!” Arthur exclaimed. “ _Dragons_ don’t _talk_. Firsties can’t – everything you do is _impossible_ , did you know that?”

Emrys laughed. “It was impossible before Hogwarts sent me a letter,” he corrected. “ _Now_ , it’s just magic.”

Arthur shook his head. “D’you know where they went or what they’ll do?” he asked, picking his sandwich back up.

“Not a clue,” Emrys answered. “But it’ll be better than what they left.”

They ate in silence for a moment, until Arthur asked quietly, “Was it truly that bad?”

Emrys nodded. “It was awful,” he said, thinking about the chains, and the magic, and the way the smallest dragon flinched. How awkwardly she flew away, like it had been a long time since she’d flown at all.

He felt small explosions again, far away, and knew what the next day’s headlines would be.

.

The next day’s headlines announced that every dragon in the world had vanished. No one claimed credit for it. All the dragon reserves were empty. All the hunting grounds were abandoned. All the cages were barren.

The dragons were gone and magic couldn’t find them.

Arthur stared at Emrys during breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but he didn’t ask. That night, after a day of no lessons because the dragons’ freedom was apparently a Very Big Deal, Emrys pulled his curtains closed, told his magic to make sure no sound got out, shut his eyes, and reached out, as far as he could.

And there she was. _Lord Emrys_ , the old dragon rumbled. _Do you need us?_

 _I just wanted to talk_ , he said, smiling. _Are you all safe?_

 _Yes, Lord,_ she replied. _All have come. Our home is well stocked with prey, for no dragon has been here in a very long time. We will rest and grow stronger._

 _Where are you?_ he asked, curious. _The papers said the greatest wizard in the world couldn’t find you._

She laughed. _The greatest wizard in the world just did._

Emrys opened his eyes in shock and accidently asked aloud, “What?”

 _We simply call it The Isle_ , she explained, laughter in her voice. _The last dragonlord sealed it off for us, a sanctuary for when the world ran out of room for dragons. But we forgot the way when he died and no lord was left to show it to us._

 _But then how did you find it?_ He poured more power into their connection and she made room, letting him see out of her eyes: dragons were sunbathing, swimming, flying. Thousands of them. Every dragon in the world.

 _The Dragonlord Emrys_ , the dragon said, _set us free and asked if we had anywhere to go. Four of us heard the stories as dragonets and led the way home._

Emrys sank back into himself. _What I can do… it’s not normal for a wizard, is it?_

 _No, my lord,_ she said. _The only thing normal about you is your confusion. Rest now_ , she murmured, and he felt a little nudge against his magic. It felt like his mother’s kiss to his forehead, when he was younger and allowed it. _Learn magic the way everyone else uses it._ Then she added, not so gently, _And for pity’s sake, child, don’t tell anybody else!_

Emrys closed their connection with a laugh. When he woke the next morning, the only dream he remembered was being bent low over a dragon’s neck, wind in his hair, lightning flaring from his fingertips.

.

Instead of whatever they had planed involving dragons, the First Task required the four champions to retrieve a golden egg protected by enchantments. The quickest time won.

Viktor Krum from Durmstrang came in first at just under half an hour. Next, Fleur Delacour from Beauxbatons and Hufflepuff Cedric Diggory were tied at forty-five and a half minutes.

Harry Potter’s time actually beat the others’, but he lost points for not breaking the spells with magic – he simply walked up to the pedestal and grabbed the egg.

He was the only one Emrys cheered for.

.

School continued apace. Emrys went home for holidays, studied sixth-year texts, chatted with Aithusan (named after her great-grandfather, she said, the last dragon to know a dragonlord), and tutored everyone who asked. He ate with the Hufflepuffs, attended class with the Slytherins, and felt happy only while near Arthur or talking to Aithusan. 

The more he used his magic, the easier it was. His wand had become completely for show. In February, right before the Second Task, watching Arthur and the rest of the students he tutored studying, it struck Emrys how alien he was compared to them. They memorized spells to force a small bolt of magic down a wooden stick. 

He broke the magical chains binding every dragon in the world. And only now that he was thinking about it – he was eleven years old and the only dragonlord. He couldn’t – could he actually _be_ a wizard? Aithusan promised no other wizard could do what he did – so he wasn’t a wizard. He had to be something else. 

He didn’t mention his fear to Arthur, too scared that his first and only friend would turn away.

.

The Second Task was boring, so Emrys spoke to Aithusan throughout it. Harry Potter had the longest time but earned points for bringing up someone else’s prize, too.

“They kidnapped people?” Arthur demanded, aghast. “That’s horrible! Left at the bottom of the lake!”

Emrys glanced at him, then down at the pier, where the prizes were being escorted away, fussed over by Madam Pomfrey.

He’d be furious, if someone he cared for were taken away and hidden. He’d be beyond furious, all the way into livid. All for some sort of competition? What kind of place was this magical world?

 _Aithusan?_ he asked. _Is there some sort of ward or spell I could place on someone to always keep them safe?_

 _Of course,_ she replied. _Tell your magic what you want and it shall be done._

… right, he thought, listening to Arthur harangue his housemates about the unbecoming misuse of public office. Emrys spared him a glance at that, while Eleanor spoke over him, explaining how none of those words meant what he seemed to think.

Wizards used the Fidelius Charm and Protego shields and runes. But Emrys was not a wizard, was he? His relationship to magic was completely different. He felt the wards around Hogwarts and heard wands hum as they obeyed their masters.

His magic sounded different. Loud and quiet at the same time. Deeper and older. So much older. Older than Hogwarts.

Which made sense, he supposed. He was a dragonlord. He probably shared the same magic as the previous ones, and they lived thousands of years ago. His dragonlord magic was older than Hogwarts, and that gave him a thrill, since Hogwarts was so welcoming and fascinating.

 _I just… tell my magic to keep someone safe?_ he asked.

 _Yes, little lord,_ Aithusan said.

He watched Arthur, still complaining about the Task and how irresponsible it was. A few of the older students had gotten involved and a nearby Ravenclaw chimed in with historical facts of previous Tournaments. 

Emrys knew the stories about making wishes. Everything had to be phrased perfectly so that nothing got twisted and went wrong. But Emrys’ magic… it did what he wanted. It _was_ him, at the most basic level.

And he wanted Arthur safe.

“You alright, mate?” Arthur asked, glancing over at him. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“I’m fine,” Emrys murmured.

Arthur blinked at him, then glanced up at the overcast sky. “Odd,” he said. “It looked like the sun hit your eyes, made ‘em gold.”

Emrys shrugged. “Didn’t seem particularly bright to me.”

“C’mon, you two,” Kevin called. “We need to go help congratulate Ced. Ethan and Danielle planned the party!” 

The Hufflepuffs really seemed to have forgotten Emrys wasn’t one of them. He enjoyed it; at primary school, kids had avoided him. But Arthur seemed determined to include Emrys in everything and the Hufflepuffs just cheerfully made room for him. 

Arthur had somehow quickly become Emrys’ entire world. Never before in his life had Emrys had a friend, someone he liked being around – someone he actually _sought out_ and tried to impress. Not since he was very young, with his parents.

So as he walked with the Hufflepuffs back to their common room, he told his magic, _Keep Arthur safe. No matter what._

Arthur said, “Your eyes just went gold again. Should we go see Madam Pomfrey?”

“No,” Emrys said. “It’s probably just the light.”

.

Emrys didn’t really notice time passing; he moved on from school texts to the professional level and still mastered things so easily Arthur just watched in awe.

Except, _master_ was not the right word. He didn’t worry about the theory behind the spells or the incantations. He told his magic what he wanted and it happened. He knew the other students were different; so were the professors. And the authors whose books he devoured.

He learned enough of the course material to explain anything that tripped up his yearmates, and he could recall every word he read.

But he didn’t _master_ anything, really. He just did what he wanted and ignored all the rules that said he couldn’t, and simply grinned whenever Arthur said, “It doesn’t _work_ that way!”  
.

The Third Task involved a maze, monsters, and a portkey.

.

At the Leaving Feast, Headmaster Dumbledore informed them all about someone called Voldemort. Emrys recalled the name from the modern history books he read before school started: a very powerful wizard who either wanted to rule the world or destroy it. Who hated anyone without magic, and anyone related to anyone without magic. And also anyone who didn’t fall into line with his rhetoric. 

_Aithusan,_ he asked, scooting a little closer to Arthur, _could I deal with Voldemort?_

 _Yes_ , she replied without hesitation. _You have more than enough magical strength._

Emrys looked at Arthur; a quick check revealed that Emrys’ magic still completely covered him. It would be there until Emrys took it away.

Voldemort wouldn’t be Emrys’ problem unless he did something to Arthur or either of their families, so Emrys decided not to worry about it. He told his magic to protect them all, to be safe.

.

During the ride back to London, Arthur and Emrys finalized their plans for the summer – meet-ups and study dates and teaching each other about their respective worlds.

Emrys would take him to The Isle at some point. He knew Arthur would love the dragons.

“I’ll see you in a week,” Arthur said as they separated, going towards their parents. 

“Yes,” Emrys agreed, strengthening his protection on Arthur one more time.

He’d never had a friend before, and he wanted to keep Arthur forever.

Aithusan murmured, _You will, my lord._

Arthur waved once more, as he walked away with his parents. Emrys’ mother pulled him into a hug and then steered him towards the exit. She had a thousand questions, excited and anxious in turn.

Emrys answered, telling her about the Hufflepuffs, the Tournament, lessons, and Arthur. He spoke the whole drive home, and through dinner, and the next morning at breakfast.

When he fell silent, Mum said, “I’m so glad you’re finally happy, love.”

Dad nodded. “That school’s been good for you, son.”

Emrys smiled down at his plate. He _was_ happy, and Hogwarts _had_ been good for him.

He wasn’t a wizard. He still had no idea what he was (maybe dragonlords were just a different kind of wizard?), but he’d be visiting the dragons tomorrow, and he’d introduce Arthur to them later in the summer, and there was nothing in the world he couldn’t do.

“Tell me what I’ve missed this year,” he said.

Mum and Dad shared a shocked look, but Mum started, and Emrys listened.

.

He dreamed of a sword and a red dragon, of fire and blood, of Arthur – older and haggard and falling. Of a white dragon shrieking and a witch saying, _You’ll come back, Merlin. You will_.

He woke up, blinked at the ceiling as everything faded but the white dragon, and fell back asleep.

This time, he dreamed of Arthur riding a sleek black dragon, a sword in one hand and his wand in the other, and Emrys flying beside him, held aloft only by his magic, and the world feared and adored them in equal measure, and everything was theirs.

It was a good dream, and he woke grinning. He’d be seeing Arthur today.


	2. First Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The summer between first and second year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: were you lost, I would be  
> Fandom: Harry Potter/Merlin (BBC)/Arthurian legend  
> Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Dickinson.   
> Warnings: AU for Harry Potter; future! and reincarnation!fic for Merlin; has not been picked through for Americanisms  
> Pairings: Emrys’ mom/Emrys’ dad; Arthur’s mom/Arthur’s dad, totally preslash for Merlin/Arthur  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 1920  
> Point of view: third

Because it was easier for wizards to go to muggles than for muggles to go to wizards, Emrys and Arthur had planned to meet at Emrys’ house. He had mentioned the visit as an afterthought to his parents three days after the start of the summer holiday and then proceeded to get more and more excited as the week passed.

“Hello,” the tall blond man next to Arthur said. “I’m Victor Cornwallis.” 

“Wonderful to meet you,” Emrys’ dad said. “I’m William Donahue; this is my wife, Anna.” The oven beeped so Dad said, “Excuse me,” and hurried to the kitchen.

“Please, come in,” Mum said, backing out of the way.

“Thank you for having us,” Mr. Cornwallis said, ushering Arthur in. “Arthur has been bouncing off the walls in excitement since we picked him up from the station.”

“Dad!” Arthur yelped, horrified, looking at Emrys and flushing.

“I know what you mean,” Mum laughed. 

Emrys flushed now, but Mr. Cornwallis merely smiled. 

Dad walked back in. “Emrys,” he said, “didn’t you have something in mind? Mum and I can keep our guest entertained.” 

Emrys nodded fervently. “C’mon,” he said, hurrying for the stairs.

He’d never had a friend over before and wasn’t sure what to do, but he’d muddle through.

Arthur’s attention was caught by the photos on the wall beside the stairs. “They don’t move,” he remarked. “Mum had said, but – ” He reached out to poke the glass covering Emrys in Mum’s arms, three months old. “How odd,” Arthur murmured, glancing up at Emrys. “Sorry,” he said, flushing again. “I’ve never been in a muggle home before.”

“I wouldn’t really call it _muggle_ ,” Emrys said. “My magic used to act up, before I learned – well, to cage it, I suppose.” 

“Cage it?” Arthur asked, finally climbing up the rest of the staircase. Emrys showed him the way to his room and Arthur looked around with clearly restrained excitement. 

Emrys’ room was always neat; he’d learned, amongst other things, that if he gave his magic a task, his magic kept to it. Every day, his magic would put things where they belonged. If his father didn’t find washing the dishes soothing, Emrys would have long since had his magic doing that chore, too. Emrys’ room had soft blue walls accented in gold and green; his bedclothes were dark green. His magic permeated everything in his room.

Arthur sighed. “It feels safe,” he murmured, so quietly Emrys was sure he wasn’t meant to have heard. “So warm.”

After a moment of silence, Arthur shook himself and turned to face Emrys. “Your father said something about plans?”

“Yes.” Emrys nodded, edging around Arthur. “I made a list of the things you say are impossible. I thought – ” He paused in the act of reaching into his bedside table’s drawer, looking back at Arthur hesitantly. “Would you rather – that is – ” He floundered, totally at a loss. How had he even managed to keep Arthur for so long? He was – was a _freak_ in both worlds, unnatural. Impossible.

_Little lord?_ Aithusan asked. 

Emrys shut the connection, ignoring her distant roar. The entire thing had been a horrible idea – inviting Arthur to his house, pursuing a friendship, connecting with people. 

“Emrys!” Arthur said sharply. Emrys jerked his head up, dropping the paper and falling back onto the bed. “Emrys, what _is_ the matter?”

“I… do you want to explore the neighborhood?” Emrys asked, trying for deep, even breaths.

Arthur’s sharp blue eyes studied him for a long moment, his face indecisive and worried before smoothing out. “Yes,” he said.

.

That first visit, Arthur and his father stayed for half the day. The second visit, Arthur spent the night. The third, Emrys went to Arthur’s house.

It wasn’t until the fifth (at Arthur’s), that Emrys worked up the nerve to bring out his list and nervously ask Arthur about his own magic. He couldn’t look up at Arthur as he read off each thing on the list – wandless magic, mega-powerful, _impossible_. 

Bloody hell, he’d set free every dragon in the world.

Arthur waited until the end to say, “I don’t know, Emrys. No one can do what you do. Mum told me the most powerful wizard alive is Dumbledore.” Arthur hesitated, so Emrys glanced up. “But not even Dumbledore could do those things.” He nodded to the paper crumpled in Emrys’ hands. “No one can, Emrys.”

Emrys licked his lips. “Would I be in trouble if someone found out?” he whispered.

“I don’t know,” Arthur said. “But I – I don’t know.”

.

For the rest of the summer holiday, in between studying for the upcoming year, Arthur taught Emrys how to be normal. Emrys had never cared about blending in, but he wanted to stay. Didn’t want any attention good or bad. Maybe it was his mother’s love for sci-fi movies and how humans treated things that were different – whatever it was, now that he had something of his own, he wanted to keep it, and if that meant hiding, so be it.

But he did, towards the end of August, ask Arthur, “Do you want to see The Isle?” 

Arthur blinked. “Of course!” he shouted, bouncing off his bed. “Are you serious?” 

Emrys had been on his own a handful of times, just to see where the dragons had gone and to visit. The last time he’d noticed a few other species present – unicorns, griffins, krakens, and what Aithusan told him were crumple-horned snorkacks. When he asked how all of them had arrived, Aithusan said, “Magic, of course.” She also explained that The Isle was a sanctuary for every magical being except man, and that since dragons had opened the way, all the rest would come in their own time.

“And it won’t get too full?” he’d asked. “Or too small?” 

“No, little lord,” she had said, rolling over and snapping out her wings, stretching towards the sun. “The last dragonlord poured so much magic into this place… it will grow with our need. So long as there is magic in the world, we will be safe here.” 

Emrys took a deep breath and put his hand on Arthur’s shoulder. He told his magic, _Take us home._

Looking around, Arthur gasped in wonder. “Emrys,” he murmured, “this is amazing.”

Emrys smiled, waving to Aithusan as she flew over. “C’mon,” he told Arthur. “There’s so much I have to show you.”

.

Arthur’s mother was a no-nonsense woman who questioned Emrys very intently about his intentions about his friendship with Arthur. She also had questions about his status as a muggleborn but he seemed to pass muster and she didn’t mind him hanging about after that. Arthur told Emrys she treated everyone like that, but it didn’t bother Emrys overmuch. 

A few times during the summer, though, Emrys felt her eyes on him, assessing. She was an Unspeakable, which meant she was smart – so she more than likely knew that Arthur’s hypothetical queries weren’t all that hypothetical. 

Emrys didn’t want to be found out, and he’d grown up on muggle fiction about the unusual leading to torture and experimentation. 

But Emrys also knew it didn’t matter what anyone tried. The magical community forced a tiny bolt of magic down a stick. They were puddles of water and Emrys was the deep, dark of the ocean.

_Oh, my little lord,_ Aithusan whispered when he told her that. _Do not worry, Lord Emrys. You will have us, no matter what the future brings. We of The Isle are yours – and we are more every day._

_Thank you_ , he murmured, comforted and pleased.

.

On September 1, Emrys’ parents brought him to King’s Cross. He hugged them both goodbye and strengthened his protection on them. 

(Something was stirring in the world, something malevolent. Emrys figured it was Voldemort, magical Britain’s He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the boogeyman of the wizards. 

Not Emrys’ problem unless he went after what was Emrys’.)

“Emrys!” Arthur called, about to board the train. 

“Arthur!” Emrys shouted back, hurrying to him, dragging his trunk behind him. He’d magically lightened it, of course.

“C’mon,” Arthur said. “Let’s find a compartment.”

“You can handle your bags?” Mrs. Cornwallis asked as Emrys scurried up the ladder to stand beside Arthur. Mr. Cornwallis was on the platform with Emrys’ parents, and he waved when Emrys caught his eye.

“Yes, Mum,” Arthur assured her, taking the trunk from her. 

“Well, if you’re sure.” She leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Be good, dear.”

“I will,” he promised, straining to hold his trunk. Emrys sent a touch of magic to help with the weight, but then Mrs. Cornwallis murmured a feather-light charm and sent it to both their trunks.

“You, too, Emrys,” she said, turning away from the train. “Be good.” 

“I will,” he promised as well, then followed Arthur into the train.

Last year, he sat alone and read magical history texts, and he was content. This year, he was on Arthur’s heels, smiling as Arthur poked his head into each compartment and muttered, “No, no, no – ah, yes, Emrys’, this’ll do.”

The compartment Arthur finally settled on had only a blonde girl a couple years older than them. “Emrys,” Arthur said, “this is Luna Lovegood. Her father writes the most _fascinating_ books and runs _The Quibbler_. Luna, this is my best friend, Emrys Donahue.” 

“Lovegood?” Emrys asked while she peered at him over her upside down magazine ( _The Quibbler_ , it said). “Xenophilius Lovegood is your dad?”

Luna nodded.

Emrys grinned at her. “His books were the most entertaining of my background reading before Hogwarts.”

“That’s good to hear,” Luna said. “Many people don’t appreciate his work.”

An older boy poked his head into the compartment and immediately left. Emrys asked Luna, “What do you know about crumple-horned snorkacks?”

She lit up, dropping the magazine. Arthur grabbed it and started reading while Luna and Emrys discussed magical creatures all the way to Hogwarts.

Maybe one day, Emrys mused, he could take Luna to The Isle.

.

Emrys didn’t want to sit with his house for the Welcoming Feast but figured he should. He focused on his food and didn’t look up until the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor began droning on. As he listened, he started frowning because her speech sounded ominous – especially the ‘pruning practices that ought to be prohibited’ part. One of the newly appointed prefects, holding court a few seats down from Emrys, said quietly, “Interesting.” 

“I agree, Draco,” a dark-skinned boy replied.

Emrys looked at the new professor, a squat little woman all in pink. Whatever her intentions were, he’d give her the same chance he gave everyone: don’t hurt what is Emrys’ and Emrys will let you be.

The headmaster dismissed the students to their dorms; Arthur waved to Emrys as the Hufflepuffs headed in the opposite direction from the Slytherins.

“For the first years,” Professor Snape drawled after everyone was in the common room, “welcome to Hogwarts. And to returning students, welcome back.” 

Emrys listened to everything Professor Snape said and it boiled down to: _keep your heads down, pay attention, and **think** before acting_. Very interesting, indeed. 

Professor Snape ended his start-of-term instructions by handing out schedules and sending them all to bed. Emrys showered, brushed his teeth, and settled into his bed with a book of magical history that Aithusan said was found in a cave in The Isle; it was written in Draconian, a language that predated the wizarding world, and Emrys was enthralled.

Hogwarts was humming in satisfaction as he fell asleep.


	3. author's note that will be deleted if I ever post part 3

Thank you to everyone who offered to help! I now have a plan in place; I just have to buckle down and do it.


	4. Year 2 preview

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. This fic. Yeah. I am so very sorry. 
> 
> I have a plan for this, I just... haven't done it. Yet. 
> 
> HOWEVER. I've spent the past week or so reading HP time travel/AU fics for reasons I shan't go into. So.
> 
> I've had over 7000 words of this written for going on 2 years now, and thanks to help from various people, I even divided it up into Year 2 and Year 3, with notes on what to expand/rewrite. Again, I just haven't done it. 
> 
> I'm going to post a couple scenes, though, because I can. Hopefully it'll give me the impetus to actually return to this fic.

When Emrys met up with Arthur for lunch, the first thing Arthur said was, “That woman! She’s horrible!”

“I know,” Emrys replied. “It’ll be an easy class, though.”

“Easy?” Arthur yelped. “She’s – she’s odious! I can’t – no magic! Theory that makes no sense at all!”

People were starting to look at Arthur, including Professor Umbridge. Emrys grabbed his arm and pulled him to the Hufflepuff table, where he shoved him down and sat beside him.

Emrys’ magic was growling. It felt like the whole school was shuddering around him, and the wards groaning; Emrys looked up at Headmaster Dumbledore, but the greatest wizard in the world seemed entirely too calm.

“ _Hem hem_ ,” Professor Umbridge said from behind Emrys. “You are a Slytherin, are you not, Mr. – ?” 

Emrys turned to face her. “Donahue, Professor Umbridge.”

She said, “Mr. Donahue, you are a Slytherin?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, gently kicking Arthur where she couldn’t see.

“Well, then, you must sit with your housemates, Mr. Donahue. We don’t want people straying, do we?” 

Emrys looked away from her florid little face and atrocious pink robes, and met Arthur’s flashing blue eyes. 

Well. It seemed that Professor Umbridge was determined to make enemies everywhere, and it was only the second day of classes.

 _Careful,_ Aithusan cautioned.

“Of course, ma’am,” Emrys said, not looking away from Arthur as he stood.

A few of his housemates gave Emrys confused looks, but no one really noticed. No one ever noticed Emrys. He watched Umbridge toddle to the staff table, wondering what game she was playing. The Hat had specifically said the students should comingle, not stagnant inside of silly prejudices – so why did the new professor whose entire curriculum was seemingly designed for failure want the houses to stay apart?

.

Arthur came out of his second Defense lesson with a detention.

Emrys felt no surprise at all.

.

Emrys sat beneath the vicious tree as the sun set and Arthur served his first ever detention. He did all his homework, then pulled out the history of ancient magic written in Draconian – it predated dragonlords, and Emrys was excited in a way he’d never been before about magic.

As he turned the page for the third chapter, his magic _shivered_. But not close to him – away, in the castle. It shivered again, a warning. He closed the book, sending it back to Aithusan for safekeeping, and stood. The magic shivered again; he focused, feeling along the thread.

Arthur.

His protection spell around Arthur was doing its job, which meant _Arthur was in danger_.

 _Little lord!_ , Aithusan shouted. _Think!_

He thought. Nothing could hurt Arthur, but little annoyances – paper cuts, stubbed toes – those weren’t what his spell worked on. Headaches, bruises from sharp corners, or dropped books. His spell worked on harmful intent and true danger. So this tiny title threat – 

Umbridge? Why would she – 

_Think_ , Aithusan said again. _Who is this woman?_

From the Ministry of Magic, Emrys figured. Nothing else made sense. Probably spying on Dumbledore – everyone said Dumbledore was the only threat to Fudge’s continued occupancy of the Minister position. (And _how_ that tosspot had been elected, Emrys had no idea.)

Harry Potter claimed Voldemort was back, Dumbledore backed him, the _Daily Prophet_ crucified him, and an odious toad took over the most important class at Hogwarts?

 _Choose your course of action carefully, lord,_ Aithusan said, a hint of fond frustration leaking through their link.

 _What’s going on there?_ Emrys asked, walking back to the castle.

 _One of the dragonets got into a thistle bush,_ she said. _Because he is one of my daughter’s sons, he came to me for sympathy._

Emrys chuckled. _Go be a grandmum,_ he said. _I won’t do anything tonight._

Aithusan sent him a shot of warmth and then turned away, muting the link. Emrys settled into the secret passage closest to Umbridge’s office and waited.

When Arthur walked out, just behind Harry Potter, he was pale and gently rubbing his right hand with his left. Emrys focused on that hand; his magic pulsed – that is where his protection had acted.

As Arthur hurried past Emrys’ hiding spot, Emrys stepped out. “What did she do to you?” he demanded.

Arthur jumped. “Merlin!” he shouted, whirling to face Emrys. “Don’t – ” He slammed his mouth shut, looking back down the corridor. “If you’re caught,” he hissed. “Emrys!”

Emrys grabbed his right hand and held on when Arthur tried to pull it away. The back of Arthur’s hand was red, looking a bit raw. Like Arthur had done nothing but scratch it for a few hours.

“What,” he asked carefully, keeping a tight grip on both his magic and temper, “did she do to you?”

“Nothing,” Arthur lied. “I just wrote lines.”

Arthur was a terrible liar – but he wasn’t exactly lying.

Emrys let go of his hand. “I’ll walk you back to your dorm,” he said, and he did. They walked side-by-side all the way to the Hufflepuff common room; the entrance opened before Arthur could mutter the password but he didn’t react, just maintained his silent trudge. Only the seventh year prefect, Taylor Stebbins, was waiting up, and he stood as they entered.

Emrys told him, “Instruct everyone to avoid detention with The Toad.”

Stebbins nodded, hurrying over. “I’ve got him if you want to head on to your own bed.”

Emrys shook his head. “ _I’ve_ got him,” he said fiercely.

“Very well, Donahue,” Stebbins said. “Good night.”

Emrys escorted Arthur to his dorm and put him to bed while all his dormmates slept on peacefully.

.

The next morning, Emrys and Arthur ate in the kitchens. Arthur talked about quidditch and charms, and Emrys let him.

Something would be done, though.

The elves kept stopping by their little table, asking if Emrys and Arthur needed anything, and the Head Elf of the Kitchens, Lolly, called Emrys _Great Lord_ , which made Emrys close his eyes and ask the world in general for patience. 

“I’m no great lord,” he told her, looking past her at the rest of the elves hard at work. Arthur was muffling his laughter with his hand, and Lolly’s giant eyes filled with tears. 

“You are the _greatest_ lord,” she said. The rest of the elves nodded fervently. 

“I don’t want to deal with this right now,” he said. “I’ll come back later, yeah?” 

“Yes, Great Lord,” Lolly agreed. “You are welcome always.” 

“Of course I am,” Emrys muttered, but Lolly just gave him a gigantic smile and bounced back to work. “Not a word,” Emrys hissed at Arthur, but Arthur was laughing again, and didn’t stop smiling for hours.


	5. Year 2 + note

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO. A thousand apologies, but i'm never going to finish this. Thank you SO MUCH to the people who read over it for me and gave advice; I know how to fix it, but I've lost my grasp on the characters. However, I do have about 7000 words of Years 2&3 that I'll be posting. Within the text are a few outline notes. 
> 
>  
> 
> Note: please ignore how severely Emrys and Arthur’s schedules don’t actually mesh with canon? Also, I’ve changed up Astronomy because canon’s ridiculous. Also also, it’s totally tried to get political and taken on a life of its’ own.

Emrys woke up early on the first day of classes and headed for the Great Hall with his morning textbooks. He sat at the Hufflepuff table, served himself a small breakfast, and waited for Arthur. He didn’t have to wait long.

“What’s your schedule?” Arthur asked, plopping beside him.

“Today I have Potions with Gryffindor, Charms, Herbology, and Defense,” Emrys told him. “Tomorrow’s History, Transfiguration, and Astronomy. You?”

“Today’s Transfiguration, Herbology, Astronomy, and Potions,” Arthur said. “Tomorrow’ll be Defense, History, and Charms.” Arthur pouted. “We don’t have any classes together.”

“Did you expect us to?” Emrys asked. “It’s traditional for Slytherins to be paired with Gryffindor and Hufflepuffs with Ravenclaw.” 

“Well, that’s a tradition that ought to be abolished,” Arthur grumbled, biting pointedly into his toast.

Hogwarts trilled a soft warning, just below Emrys’ feet. He looked down at the floor, then up at the Headmaster, who’d just walked in behind Professor Umbridge. 

So Hogwarts herself was worried about something. But why wasn’t she warning the Headmaster? Wasn’t it _his_ job to look after Hogwarts and all those in her walls?

“Emrys?” Arthur said, poking his shoulder. 

“Yes?” Emrys focused on him, picking up his orange juice. 

Arthur leaned in close. “Your eyes just went gold,” he murmured. “Be careful. Professor Sprout told all of us to take care this term.”

Jolly Professor Sprout issuing the same warning as Professor Snape? Hogwarts making sure Emrys was on guard? Something was seriously wrong.

“Then do so, Arthur,” Emrys said. “Remember Headmaster Dumbledore’s warning at the end of last year? I’m sure it’s just the same.”

Harry Potter stomped into the Hall amid a flurry of whispers. Neither Emrys nor Arthur had followed the news over the summer, but Emrys knew that he’d been essentially under siege by bad press.

Since Emrys could feel the malevolence swelling on the air, he knew beyond doubt that Harry Potter was telling the truth. And Arthur staunchly supported The-Boy-Who-Lived, as he’d grown up on stories of his heroism and adventures and was loyal until given reason not to be.

“Time to head to class,” Arthur announced, beaming.

“So it is,” Emrys agreed.

They separated at the main staircase, heading off to the first lessons of their second year.

.

ADD IN REST OF CLASSES  
MWF:   
Potions with Gry – interactions with yearmates   
Charms  
Lunch  
Herbology  
DADA

The first class with Professor Umbridge went well enough, Emrys thought. He copied down the course aims and read the assigned chapter quickly. No one wanted to draw Professor Umbridge’s attention because her shouting match with Harry Potter had already made the rounds.

“Very good, dears,” she said at the end of class. “For our next meeting, I’d like twelve inches of parchment on what you consider a proper time to use defensive spells.” She smiled her sickingly sweet smile as Emrys and his yearmates left.

“That was a complete waste,” Malcolm Baddock muttered to Graham Pritchard.

Emrys nodded in agreement, walking down a different corridor to where Arthur and his Hufflepuffs were exiting Potions with the Ravenclaws.

“How’s Defense?” Arthur asked. “Is it as bad as everyone’s been saying?”

Slytherins were the first second years to be scheduled for Defense, so all the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws crowded around to hear Emrys’ reply.

They all groaned when he simply said, “Worse.” 

.

Emrys spent dinner with the Hufflepuffs and then walked to their common room, still listening to Arthur chatter about his first day back. He’d be having DADA first thing in the morning.

“You know,” Arthur said conspiratorially, glancing around for Professor Sprout or prefects, “they’ve already started calling her The Toad.”

Emrys snorted. “It fits,” he admitted. He stayed for a few more hours, until the prefects said it was time for bed. He wished Arthur a good night and left; one of the upper years offered to walk him back to because it was after curfew, but Emrys turned her down, thanking her for the thought.

.

The next morning, Emrys bypassed his yearmates entirely and went straight to the Hufflepuffs, though Arthur wasn’t down yet. Owen asked him about something Professor McGonagall had said the day before in Transfiguration. Emrys hadn’t had the class yet but he pulled the information out of his mental library and rephrased it for Owen, who thanked him profusely and jotted it down.

By the time Arthur made it down, three more Hufflepuffs, one of them a third year, had asked him questions and Henry Davenport had requested Emrys tutor him.

“You are too smart for your own good, Emrys,” Arthur said as he plopped down next to him.

Emrys shrugged. It was no bother, and provided him with a few moments of entertainment.

 _Don’t get too swelled a head, little lord,_ Aithusan chuckled.

He sent her a mental grin, finishing off his toast and walking with the Hufflepuffs to DADA. He left Arthur at the door and headed to History of Magic, where he spoke with Aithusan instead of paying attention to Binns; everything Binns told them was wrong, anyway.

.

When Emrys met up with Arthur for lunch, the first thing Arthur said was, “That woman! She’s horrible!”

“I know,” Emrys replied. “It’ll be an easy class, though.”

“Easy?” Arthur yelped. “She’s – she’s odious! I can’t – no magic! Theory that makes no sense at all!”

People were starting to look at Arthur, including Professor Umbridge. Emrys grabbed his arm and pulled him to the Hufflepuff table, where he shoved him down and sat beside him.

Emrys’ magic was growling. It felt like the whole school was shuddering around him, and the wards groaning; Emrys looked up at Headmaster Dumbledore, but the greatest wizard in the world seemed entirely too calm.

“ _Hem hem_ ,” Professor Umbridge said from behind Emrys. “You are a Slytherin, are you not, Mr. – ?” 

Emrys turned to face her. “Donahue, Professor Umbridge.”

She said, “Mr. Donahue, you are a Slytherin?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, gently kicking Arthur where she couldn’t see.

“Well, then, you must sit with your housemates, Mr. Donahue. We don’t want people straying, do we?” 

Emrys looked away from her florid little face and atrocious pink robes, and met Arthur’s flashing blue eyes. 

Well. It seemed that Professor Umbridge was determined to make enemies everywhere, and it was only the second day of classes.

 _Careful,_ Aithusan cautioned.

“Of course, ma’am,” Emrys said, not looking away from Arthur as he stood.

A few of his housemates gave Emrys confused looks, but no one really noticed. No one ever noticed Emrys. He watched Umbridge toddle to the staff table, wondering what game she was playing. The Hat had specifically said the students should comingle, not stagnant inside of silly prejudices – so why did the new professor whose entire curriculum was seemingly designed for failure want the houses to stay apart?

.

STUDY GROUPs IN LIBRARY whenever Hufflepuffs have free period – Ravenclaws, too – Emrys good at explaining, have him pretend to be bad at applying – MAGIC IS DIFFERENT 

Emrys friendship with Luna – going to see threstrals, talking about creatures no one else believes in 

What’s going on in Slytherin? Gryffindor? Emrys’ other classes

Halloween 

 

MOVE TO NOVEMBER

Arthur came out of his second Defense lesson with a detention.

Emrys felt no surprise at all.

.

Emrys sat beneath the vicious tree as the sun set and Arthur served his first ever detention. He did all his homework, then pulled out the history of ancient magic written in Draconian – it predated dragonlords, and Emrys was excited in a way he’d never been before about magic.

As he turned the page for the third chapter, his magic _shivered_. But not close to him – away, in the castle. It shivered again, a warning. He closed the book, sending it back to Aithusan for safekeeping, and stood. The magic shivered again; he focused, feeling along the thread.

Arthur.

His protection spell around Arthur was doing its job, which meant _Arthur was in danger_.

 _Little lord!_ , Aithusan shouted. _Think!_

He thought. Nothing could hurt Arthur, but little annoyances – paper cuts, stubbed toes – those weren’t what his spell worked on. Headaches, bruises from sharp corners, or dropped books. His spell worked on harmful intent and true danger. So this tiny title threat – 

Umbridge? Why would she – 

_Think_ , Aithusan said again. _Who is this woman?_

From the Ministry of Magic, Emrys figured. Nothing else made sense. Probably spying on Dumbledore – everyone said Dumbledore was the only threat to Fudge’s continued occupancy of the Minister position. (And _how_ that tosspot had been elected, Emrys had no idea.)

Harry Potter claimed Voldemort was back, Dumbledore backed him, the _Daily Prophet_ crucified him, and an odious toad took over the most important class at Hogwarts?

 _Choose your course of action carefully, lord,_ Aithusan said, a hint of fond frustration leaking through their link.

 _What’s going on there?_ Emrys asked, walking back to the castle.

 _One of the dragonets got into a thistle bush,_ she said. _Because he is one of my daughter’s sons, he came to me for sympathy._

Emrys chuckled. _Go be a grandmum,_ he said. _I won’t do anything tonight._

Aithusan sent him a shot of warmth and then turned away, muting the link. Emrys settled into the secret passage closest to Umbridge’s office and waited.

When Arthur walked out, just behind Harry Potter, he was pale and gently rubbing his right hand with his left. Emrys focused on that hand; his magic pulsed – that is where his protection had acted.

As Arthur hurried past Emrys’ hiding spot, Emrys stepped out. “What did she do to you?” he demanded.

Arthur jumped. “Merlin!” he shouted, whirling to face Emrys. “Don’t – ” He slammed his mouth shut, looking back down the corridor. “If you’re caught,” he hissed. “Emrys!”

Emrys grabbed his right hand and held on when Arthur tried to pull it away. The back of Arthur’s hand was red, looking a bit raw. Like Arthur had done nothing but scratch it for a few hours.

“What,” he asked carefully, keeping a tight grip on both his magic and temper, “did she do to you?”

“Nothing,” Arthur lied. “I just wrote lines.”

Arthur was a terrible liar – but he wasn’t exactly lying.

Emrys let go of his hand. “I’ll walk you back to your dorm,” he said, and he did. They walked side-by-side all the way to the Hufflepuff common room; the entrance opened before Arthur could mutter the password but he didn’t react, just maintained his silent trudge. Only the seventh year prefect, Taylor Stebbins, was waiting up, and he stood as they entered.

Emrys told him, “Instruct everyone to avoid detention with The Toad.”

Stebbins nodded, hurrying over. “I’ve got him if you want to head on to your own bed.”

Emrys shook his head. “ _I’ve_ got him,” he said fiercely.

“Very well, Donahue,” Stebbins said. “Good night.”

Emrys escorted Arthur to his dorm and put him to bed while all his dormmates slept on peacefully.

.

The next morning, Emrys and Arthur ate in the kitchens. Arthur talked about quidditch and charms, and Emrys let him.

Something would be done, though.

The elves kept stopping by their little table, asking if Emrys and Arthur needed anything, and the Head Elf of the Kitchens, Lolly, called Emrys _Great Lord_ , which made Emrys close his eyes and ask the world in general for patience. 

“I’m no great lord,” he told her, looking past her at the rest of the elves hard at work. Arthur was muffling his laughter with his hand, and Lolly’s giant eyes filled with tears. 

“You are the _greatest_ lord,” she said. The rest of the elves nodded fervently. 

“I don’t want to deal with this right now,” he said. “I’ll come back later, yeah?” 

“Yes, Great Lord,” Lolly agreed. “You are welcome always.” 

“Of course I am,” Emrys muttered, but Lolly just gave him a gigantic smile and bounced back to work. “Not a word,” Emrys hissed at Arthur, but Arthur was laughing again, and didn’t stop smiling for hours.

.

Emrys didn’t want to bring any more focus on Arthur, so he sat at the Slytherin table during lunch and decidedly shook his head when Arthur looked toward him. 

Byron Miller, a fourth year, asked him, “Abandoning the duffers at last?”

Emrys glared at him. “No.” 

Miller snorted and turned back to his food. 

Emrys barely touched his, concentration divided between Arthur and Umbridge. He took his time getting to Defense and arrived late; Umbridge docked a few points from Slytherin. He didn’t get out his useless textbook, instead staring just past Umbridge at a blank space on the wall.

“Mr. Donahue,” she finally said, “where is your _Defensive Magical Theory_?”

It was actually kind of fun, Emrys found, _trying_ to get a rise out of somebody. “On the rubbish heap,” he answered cheerfully, “where a useless piece of trash like that belongs.”

His classmates gasped and Emrys tried not to laugh at the dumbstruck look on The Toad’s face.

“Detention!” she snapped.

Emrys made a nuisance of himself for the rest of class, contradicting everything she said and asking inane questions. With half an hour left, Umbridge threw him out (politely, of course) and handed him a piece of parchment to give to Professor Snape.

Emrys had _never_ had so much fun in a class before. No wonder all some students did was disrupt things.

“Donahue,” Professor Snape sighed, “getting this woman’s attention is a bad idea. What possessed you to behave so atrociously?” He shook the parchment. “If this is accurate, you behaved like a _Gryffindor_.” 

“Then it’s accurate, sir,” Emrys said respectfully.

“You have detention tomorrow,” Professor Snape informed him, “and all through the weekend.” Professor Snape looked down at him. “You really bothered her.”

Emrys lowered his gaze so that he wouldn’t laugh out loud at the smile lurking around Professor Snape’s lips.

“Twenty points to Slytherin,” Professor Snape muttered. “Begone.”

.

Arthur was waiting at the doors to the Great Hall. “C’mon,” he said, grabbing Emrys’ sleeve and dragging him toward the kitchens. Emrys let Arthur drag him, waiting for the explosion.

“How could you – ” Arthur started. “You’ve always been a model student. You - Evelyn Tavros told me that you antagonized her the whole lesson. Why in Merlin’s name would you _do_ that, Emrys?” 

“Do you have another detention?” he asked instead of answering. 

“No. We’ll see how I do tomorrow, though,” he said glumly. “Emrys, she’s utterly horrid.” 

The elves had all of Arthur’s favorite foods waiting and Emrys turned their conversation to the Draconian history book.

Arthur found it fascinating. He didn’t even notice that Emrys never answered his question.

The elves gave them space, but Lolly caught his eyes as they left. He nodded; he needed to do a bit of research into House Elf history, and if he found nothing satisfactory, he’d ask Aithusan. Lolly grinned at him and Emrys shook his head long-sufferingly. 

.

“You shouldn’t antagonize dragons,” Luna told Emrys as they passed in the corridor.

Emrys laughed, and a few of his yearmates looked at him oddly. They’d never heard or seen him laugh before, he realized. He ignored them to tell Luna, “I’ve nothing to fear from dragons.”

She smiled at him and drifted off down the corridor. “Be careful,” Pritchard muttered as he brushed past Emrys. “A Hufflepuff and the daftest Ravenclaw – you should pick better friends, Donahue.”

Emrys didn’t bother replying.

.

Work in more Luna – visiting the threstrals; maybe something with the elves? surely they're connected to Hogwarts - possibly racial memory, know who Emrys is? (call him 'Great Lord,' no matter how he protests) the Forbidden Forest, too. 

 

IN NOVEMBER 

Emrys had his first ever detention. On Thursday, Emrys only saw Arthur at breakfast, again in the kitchen. He behaved perfectly in all classes and spent lunch in the library, explaining a few spells to three Hufflepuffs and a Gryffindor. 

He popped into the Great Hall for a quick bite, nodded to Arthur, ignored Professor Snape’s stare, and headed to The Toad’s office.

Harry Potter entered the room just behind him and Umbridge sat them side-by-side. “Continue, Mr. Potter,” she ordered gently, handing him a quill. “And Mr. Donahue, you will write _I must show proper respect for academic works_.” 

Emrys wrote with the quill she gave him and caught on quick.

 _Oh,_ he thought, staring down at the bright red ink, the back of his hand stinging. _Oh, you **hag**_.

Arthur just wrote lines, indeed.

Emrys glanced over at Harry’s parchment: _I must not tell lies_ , the Boy Who Lived wrote, and it was scratched into the back of his hand.

“Mr. Donahue!” Umbridge called in a sing-song tone.

He wrote the next line, and the next, and he asked Aithusan, _What is your policy on eating witches?_

 _They taste like any other meat_ , she answered.

Emrys nodded to himself and continued writing.

No matter how many times he wrote lines, though, it wouldn’t scar his hand – or Arthur’s.

.

Emrys kept eating dinner with his House, whenever he sat in the Great Hall. Breakfast and lunch were with Arthur, or tutoring in the library. Classes were just as easy as last year, and if Arthur hadn’t gotten another detention with The Toad, things would have been very different.

DECEMBER – figure out schedule – when does Christmas break start? 

Umbridge assigned Arthur four more detentions. 

.

Umbridge was doomed from the moment Emrys saw _I must respect my betters_ bleeding on the back of Arthur’s hand. 

It healed the second he saw it, of course, and Emrys added petty annoyances to the things Arthur was protected from.

Emrys’ magic roared and Hogwarts trembled before he grounded it, clinging to his temper with everything he had.

Arthur asked softly, “Emrys?”

No one else in the Hufflepuff common room seemed to notice, but Emrys knew every ward had screamed before going silent. If Dumbledore paid even the scantest attention, then he knew something was up.

Emrys didn’t care. Umbridge made Arthur bleed. For that, Emrys had neither mercy nor forgiveness. Looking into Arthur’s sky-blue eyes, Emrys told his magic, _Get her out of our lives_.

He didn’t care how his magic got the job done.

“Emrys?” Arthur asked again. “It’s just a scratch.” He looked down at his hand and gasped because the skin was seamless. Arthur would never be harmed or scarred again. “Emrys,” Arthur whispered, gaze darting around the mostly empty room, “what did you do?” 

Two seventh years, huddled together on the loveseat in the corner. Stebbins, carefully maintaining his distance but clearly wanting to examine Arthur for wounds. A fourth year frantically writing an essay.

“Don’t worry about it,” Emrys carefully told Arthur. “Get some sleep.”

“Emrys!” Arthur hissed, but Emrys headed for the portrait. Instead of going to his dorm, though, he went to The Isle and Aithusan.

“Little lord,” she said. “Oh, sweetling.” She lay down on her belly and he curled up between her front legs, face turned into her chest. “Oh, little love,” Aithusan crooned. “Rest, youngling. Rest and dream of the dawn.” She began singing a Draconian lullaby and Emrys soon feel asleep.

.

On Monday, Emrys returned to his dorm, showered, and went to breakfast. He ate quietly with his yearmates, unhurried, and trailed along when it was time for class. He stayed in the library for lunch. 

There was a note left on the Defense classroom’s door that the class was cancelled. 

Emrys wished he could ask his magic what it did. Instead, he went to the shifting room, created a muggle library, and settled in with his favorite book about King Arthur.

.

At dinner, everyone speculated about where Umbridge had gone. Apparently, no one had noticed her missing until the evening before. According to the gossip, all her belongings were still in her quarters, with no indication she’d be leaving. There were no signs of a struggle, either physical or magical – which, of course, meant nothing since it could have been cleaned up with the flick of a wand.

From across the Great Hall, Arthur stared at Emrys. Emrys met his gaze without hesitation. Arthur rubbed at his left hand. 

Aithusan said, _We found your gift, Lord Emrys._

So that was what his magic did.

Emrys asked, _How’d she taste?_

.

Minister Fudge stormed into the Great Hall the next morning, a cadre of aurors following him. “Where is she, Dumbledore?” he demanded, wand clutched in his hand. 

“My owl is on the way to London to ask you the same thing,” Headmaster Dumbledore answered calmly. 

Minister Fudge scoffed, fingers tightening on his wand. “You knew she was the most loyal of all the Ministry, and you did away with her!” 

The entire Hall gasped and Headmaster Dumbledore said, “That is an unfounded accusation, Minister. Hogwarts is a place of safety and learning.” 

“Arrest him!” Minister Fudge ordered, voice shrill. 

The aurors glanced from Minister Fudge to Headmaster Dumbledore, and the headmaster said, “Come, Cornelius; let us speak of this in my office and leave the children to a peaceful breakfast.” 

Minister Fudge looked around, still blustering, but then he said, “Of course, of course” and stomped back out, the aurors staying with him. Headmaster Dumbledore followed calmly; he never even glanced Emrys’ way. 

Beneath his feet, Hogwarts trilled with relief and laughter bubbled up, but Emrys didn’t make a sound.

 _Should I even bother to caution you, little lord?_ Aithusan asked, but she sounded far more fond than annoyed.

He sent her amusement and delight; she replied with a shake of her head.

.

“What did you do?” Arthur asked at lunch. 

The elves were singing again, as they prepared lunch for Hogwarts, and Emrys’ absolute favorites appeared on his plate. The elves had been as unhappy as everyone else for the past few weeks, with The Toad trumping around, spreading fear and malice in her wake.

“I didn’t do a thing,” Emrys told him honestly. What was it called? From that American film with the aliens and the White House blowing up – 

_Plausible deniability_ , Aithusan answered. Part of him wanted to ask where she’d ever seen that film; the rest of him smiled.

Yes, that. Emrys knew things would be better if Arthur didn’t know for sure, for now, at least.

“After all,” Emrys said, after a moment of Arthur _looking_ at him, “you just wrote lines.”

Arthur flinched. “Emrys,” he said, “I didn’t – ”

“Great Lord!” an elf wearing a dish rag for a hat said, “Suna and Lolly made this for you!” 

“Are you Suna?” Emrys asked, glancing down at the cake with THANKS GREAT LORD written on it in bright neon green. 

Suna nodded his head so frantically Emrys worried he’d hurt himself, so he reached out to place a hand on his shoulder. “Calm down,” he ordered. The elf stopped moving, staring up at him with better puppy eyes than any puppy he’d ever seen. 

Arthur was snickering into his pudding, but Emrys was remembering all the piecemeal information he’d found about House Elves. “Are you happy?” he asked Suna, glancing around the kitchen at the rest of the elves, who had all frozen in place, staring at him. 

“Yes, Great Lord,” Suna said, barely breathing. “Hogwarts elves are happy.” 

“Truthfully, Suna,” Emrys asked, “do House Elves need to be bonded for their health?” That’s what the books had said – an unbonded House Elf would die as their own magic turned on them. 

The books also said wandless magic was next-to-impossible and that all Slytherins were Dark Lords in training who would destroy the world if left unchecked, so Emrys didn’t believe anything the magical world wrote down.

“No, Great Lord,” Suna whispered, eyes so wide they had to hurt, gazing at Emrys with an adoration he knew he didn’t deserve. 

Emrys nodded and let his hand drop from Suna’s shoulder.

.

“What was that?” Arthur asked as they left the kitchen for their afternoon classes, the cake divided in half and sent to their dorms with a stasis spell.

“I’m not sure yet,” Emrys said. 

Aithusan murmured, _You never do anything by halves, do you?_

He sent her a mental shrug. _If it’s not right, how can I let it stand?_

She sighed. _I cannot fault you for that, since by that same reasoning I and my family are safe and happy for the first time since before I hatched._

 _Exactly_ , he replied. 

.

Once, the books said, House Elves were called Dark Elves and they had been wizarding kind’s greatest enemy. But they were defeated and bound, and their forced servitude was their everlasting punishment for losing.

 _Victors write the history books_ , Emrys thought, and he didn’t trust anything in a wizard’s library. 

The economy had suffered a downturn, for a few months, but since dragons had been endangered, substitutions had been in the works, anyway. But if House Elves suddenly disappeared – and some of them didn’t want to, anyway, like the Hogwarts Elves. 

“What if,” Emrys asked Lolly, “I just loosened the chains, in a way?”

Lolly and Suna represented the Kitchen Elves. Uta and Yorry were from the Grounds Elves, and Tula and Roddy stood in for the Cleaning Elves. 

All six of them looked at each other before Lolly said, “We don’t understand, Great Lord.”

The books said that House Elves were stupid, as evidenced by how they never learned to speak properly. Emrys had been listening; he could hear the elves murmuring to each other while they worked, invisible to all the magical children who didn’t even notice their presence. They only spoke incorrectly when they knew a wizard or witch was listening. 

“Your kind is bound to families or institutions, right?” he asked. 

Lolly nodded. “All of us and our children and our parents have been at Hogwarts since Headmistress Derwent. But all elves are bound.” 

“Except that one,” Tula muttered, and the rest nodded. 

“That one?” Emrys repeated. 

“ _Dobby_ ,” Roddy hissed. 

“And Winky,” Suna added. “Dobby tricked his master into freeing him, and Winky was forced from her family. Dobby brought her here.”

“And their magic hasn’t turned on them?” Emrys tapped his finger against his lip, thinking. The elves waited patiently until he said, “I could loosen the binding, I think. Some of what I’ve read,” he shuddered, “it’s awful. Nothing and no one should be treated like that.” 

“Loosen the binding?” Lolly echoed. 

Emrys nodded, getting excited now that he had a concrete idea. “What do you know about dragons?” he asked, smiling when all their eyes widened again.

.

For a week, Defense Against the Dark Arts was cancelled. All students were required to use the time for independent study on the subject, which really just meant read the book silently. 

Emyrs used the time to plan what he wanted to do. He double-checked things with Aithusan and read books so old they were falling apart, and he took dozens of pages of notes so he could show the elves what the magical world had recorded of them. 

“Emrys, what are you doing?” Arthur asked, staring down at the notes Emrys had collected. They were written in Draconian, so Arthur turned the paper different angles trying to read it. 

“Your family doesn’t keep House Elves?” Emrys asked in reply. 

“No,” Arthur answered distractedly, still staring determinedly at the paper like he could force it to make itself readable. “Dad employs a few for his business, but Mum says that keeping House Elves around the house gives magical folk airs.” 

“Airs?” Emrys repeated.

“Yeah, you know, makes them snooty,” Arthur explained, finally looking up from the paper. “Emrys,” he said again, slowly, “ _what_ are you doing?”

Emrys just smiled. “Tell me about these elves your father employs.”

.

Minister appoints PERCY WEASLEY for second half of year?   
\- Umbridge lasts until Christmas; disappears over Christmas break  
\- Arthur begins getting in trouble later in the semester – no detention until November   
\- Carrows in 3rd year; Dumbledore takes over DADA after the new year   
\- Merlin/King Arthur reincarnated to bring balance to Britain’s magic  
\- House elves don’t happen till third year   
\- Emrys spends more time acting like a second year – study group in library?


	6. Year 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, originally I had both of these as Year 2, and I knew it wasn't working; it was pointed out to me (thank you!) that I had things moving entirely too quickly. So I separated them into two years and then just... left it. I'm very sorry but I will almost definitely never finish this story. It was so much fun, though.

THIRD YEAR Lucius suggests the Carrows take Umbridge’s place at Hogwarts. (Give them positions in the Ministry?)  
Flora and Hestia (a year younger than Emrys&Arthur) are the Carrows' nieces, by the oldest Carrow, Aubry, who remained neutral during the First War and kept his siblings free through family loyalty. Maybe Emrys adopts them like he'll adopt Luna because they're terrified of their aunt&uncle?

TRAIN RIDE, SORTING, foreshadowing of bad shit 

 

"Students, here are your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, the Professors Carrow," Headmaster Dumbledore announced gravely after the Sorting before sitting down.

Emrys looked at the strangers sitting beside Professor Snape; immediately, at first glance, he didn't like them at all. Hogwarts herself seemed to be shuddering in rage, but no one else appeared to feel the trembling beneath their feet. Emrys' gaze moved from the new professors to Headmaster Dumbledore, whose eyes weren't twinkling nearly as much as they usually did. 

So. The Minister's next move was even worse than the one before it, but unless these Carrows harmed Arthur, Emrys really couldn't care less. He had other things to think about right now, so he turned back to _Spells, Charms, and Curses for Obedience_ and tried not to let his distaste show.

Over the weekend, Arthur’s attitude shifted. Instead of wanting to walk the grounds, he stayed in the Hufflepuff common room, dragging Emrys down next to him, and focused on his studies. He wouldn’t tell Emrys what was bothering him, but Emrys finally pinpointed the problem to a letter he’d received from his mother early Saturday morning.

Finally, late Sunday night, just before the prefect usually announced the official bedtime for the younger years, Arthur took a deep breath. "Emrys," he said, glancing around the room before lowering his voice, "my parents are pulling me from Hogwarts."

Emrys stared at him. "What?" 

Arthur nodded. "They don't like what they've been hearing about the past few years here - did you know a student was petrified by an as-yet-uncaught monster three years ago? And the dementers from the year after that nearly Kissed a few students and a teacher!" 

"But you can't leave!" Emrys said, digging his fingers into his thighs to keep from grabbing Arthur. He quickly shoved down all of the magic that lashed out.

"What with Umbridge's disappearance and a few portents Mum hasn't shared -" Arthur shrugged, drooping back against the back of the chair. "Dad'll teach me for awhile, until things settle down. Mum thinks everything'll come to a head soon." He glanced around again. "She's cautioned a few friends, too," he added quietly. "There's so much she can't explain, or won't, maybe. But bad things are coming, Emrys." He reached out touch Emrys' shoulder, and that settled the rest of his magic. 

"Mum's coming for me tomorrow," he said. "Please, write your parents. I can have Dad explain it to them - but Mum's more worried than I've ever seen her, and I want you safe." 

Arthur was so serious, so solemn. He _knew_ about Emrys, the truth of what he could do - but he didn't understand, not really. Could Emrys explain how truly safe they were? How nothing of whatever Arthur's mum feared could come to pass? 

No, he couldn't. And maybe it would be better; Emrys wouldn't have to be so restrained if Arthur were gone out of reach. And the elves… but what could Arthur’s mum know? 

_The Carrows_ , he thought. _Hogwarts doesn’t like them any more than she liked The Toad._

That was all that had changed, really. But Mrs. Cornwallis didn’t want them anywhere near her son. 

"Your safety is more important than anything," he murmured, catching Arthur's hand as he pulled it away. He felt the power pass through him, knew his eyes had just shone gold, as they usually did when he expended great magic, strengthening the protections on his friend, on his parents, and even adding a protection to Arthur's parents, too. 

Because Mrs. Cornwallis _was_ right: bad things were coming, had already come to Hogwarts. So it was for the best that Arthur left, and however many other students did, as well.

But still. It would be lonely without Arthur. 

.

In the morning, Emrys sat at the Hufflepuff table and chatted with Arthur and a few others about charms. Arthur wasn't at lunch. More students were gone at dinner. 

That night, Emrys went to The Isle and blasted boulders with lightning until he collapsed from exhaustion. Aithusan found him and, crooning a Draconian lullaby, curled around him. 

_What you plan will be quite chaotic, little lord_ , she said, just before he returned to Hogwarts. _By the end, we were so few. But the Elves…_

“I’m just giving them the choice,” Emrys said. “It’s up to them what they choose.” 

Aithusan sighed. “Of course.”

.

Alecto and Amycus Carrow sneered down at Emrys’ class. “So, third year Slytherins,” Ms. Professor Carrow hissed, walking among the desks. “Tell me, what have you learned so far?” 

“Professor Umbridge had us reading, ma’am,” Tavros said. “But last year, Professor Moody – ”

Mr. Professor Carrow interrupted, demanding, “Did we call on you, girl?” 

Tavros sank down in her seat. 

“Do not,” Ms. Professor Carrow said coldly, glaring at them all, “speak unless spoken to.” Her eyes landed on Emrys. “We will now call roll. Say _present_ and be silent.”

Emrys’ name was called second. He didn’t look away from Ms. Professor Carrow as he said, “Present.”

The rest of the lesson was completely silent as the professors had them picking right up where The Toad had left off. But Mr. Professor Carrow said, “Donahue, stay after,” and Emrys’ classmates gave him sympathetic looks as they left. 

Emrys really wanted to sigh. If these two were just more of the same… 

“I do not recognize your surname,” Mr. Professor Carrow said. Emrys thought he might have been trying for pleasant, like The Toad did in the beginning, but he wasn’t anywhere near pleasant looking enough for it to work. 

“I’m a first generation wizard,” Emrys said back, just as pleasantly, and tried not to smirk at the barely-hidden look of distaste to cross Mr. Professor Carrow’s face. 

“If that’s all, sir?” he asked. 

But Ms. Professor Carrow said, “You’re a mudblood in Slytherin?” 

Emrys didn’t even react. Arthur would’ve shouted something and lost his temper, but Emrys didn’t care what people thought or said, so he simply repeated, “If that’s all, sir?” 

Mr. Professor Carrow waved his hand in dismissal and Emrys walked out. 

.

Between breakfast and lunch the next day, even more students left. Very few Slytherins were withdrawn, but Ravenclaw suffered a major depletion, with Hufflepuff not far behind. Emrys wrote to Arthur after the second DADA ‘lesson’ and suggested he mention to his mother that she mention to her friends how the DADA ‘professors’ felt about muggleborns. He didn’t write to his own parents about it, of course, because he had plans. 

“Do keep your head down, Mr. Donahue,” Professor Snape told him as he left the Potions classroom. “The Carrows are not to be trifled with.” 

Emrys glanced around; they were the only ones in the room and he quickly muted any listening spell in place when he said, “Neither was Professor Umbridge.” 

Snape just stared at him and Emrys ducked around the doorway, heading for Charms. 

_Was that wise?_ Aithusian asked. Emrys sent her a mental shrug in reply and settled next to Tavros. 

.

Harry Potter, to absolutely nobody’s surprise, got the first detention handed down by the Professors Carrow. Except for fewer students, things seemed to pretty much be the same. Emrys had no idea what Headmaster Dumbledore was doing. 

After Potter’s detention, none of the Gryffindors got detentions, and Potter had quiet words with the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff prefects.

“Draco,” Zabini, one of the fifth years, said to one of the prefects, “what was your father thinking?”

Emrys glanced up from his notebook. His plan for the elves was almost finalized and he only needed one more meeting with Lolly to clear a few things up. It was two days before the Yule holiday, and without Arthur at the castle, Emrys was going home on the Hogwarts Express. 

“I don’t know,” Malfoy, the prefect, replied before casting muffliato. Their conversation continued but Emrys heard only muffled whispers. 

He focused back on his notebook because he honestly didn’t care. 

.

MOVE TO BEGINNING, is SUMMER

Over the Christmas break, Emrys spent all his time at Arthur’s. His parents came, too; they were both only children, whose parents had been only children, and the three of them really were all that was left of their family.

Arthur’s parents made them all feel welcome. Dad and Mr. Cornwallis discussed books, while Mum quizzed Mrs. Cornwallis about what, exactly, a Department of Mysteries did. Mrs. Cornwallis actually answered her questions, too, which Arthur seemed to find quite shocking, but Emrys just shook his head. 

“How are things?” Arthur asked quietly, and Emrys shrugged. 

“I doubt many will be going back,” he said. “The school’s just been feeling… _wrong_.” He shrugged again. “You’d hate the DADA professors.” 

Even the Slytherins hated the DADA professors. 

Arthur looked at him for a long moment before shaking his head and saying, “You need to see this book Dad brought home.” He headed for the stairs; Emrys followed. 

Neither of them mentioned Hogwarts for the rest of the holiday.

.

Officially, no one believed the Dark Lord had returned. _The Daily Prophet_ continued persecuting both Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore. Unofficially, though, it seemed a great many people were utterly terrified that he had, and Mrs. Cornwallis told Emrys’ parents that it might be best if he didn’t return to Hogwarts in the New Year.

Emrys just looked up at his parents and said, “I will go back.” 

“Are you sure?” Mum asked quietly, reaching out to take his hand. “If Yvonne thinks you shouldn’t – she knows things, sweetheart, and if she believed Hogwarts to be unsafe…”

“Mum,” Emrys said, muting every single listening charm in the Cornwallis house, “there is nowhere that is unsafe for me.” He squeezed her hand. “You know that what I can do, it’s _different_. Even from Arthur.”

Dad nodded when Emrys glanced at him and Mum smiled sadly. “Do you promise, Emrys?”

“Yes,” he said. “I promise.” 

.

Emrys didn’t let his parents accompany him to the platform, this time. It was practically deserted and a little bit spooky, and the train was just the same. Emrys walked down the corridor and finally found Luna Lovegood alone in a compartment, reading _The Quibbler_.

“Are you still tickling dragons?” she asked him without looking away from the paper. 

“Not exactly,” he replied, floating his trunk onto the luggage rack. “But I am about to kick over an ant hill.” 

She laughed sharply, lowering the paper. “Who stands with you?” she asked, her gaze following him as he sat down. “It must be lonesome standing alone.”

He thought about that for a moment as she folded _The Quibbler_. “How is the DA coming along?” he asked instead of answering her question. 

Luna barely smiled, but her eyes shone. “Quite nicely,” she said. “I tried convincing Harry to ask you to join, but others wouldn’t agree. I think that’s silly but I am just a little loony.” 

“I would have refused,” he admitted, “though Arthur might have joined.” 

“Not if you didn’t,” Luna said. Emrys nodded, because Arthur wouldn’t have without him.

“I got you a present,” Emrys said after a little while. He held out a hand, palm up, and while Luna watched, eyes widening, a tiny, furry blob appeared. “Her name can’t be pronounced by human vocal cords,” Emrys said, “but I’ve been calling her Avenly.”

“Emrys,” Luna breathed, “is that…” 

“A crumpled-horn snorkack,” he said. “Her mum had too many babies to look after, but she’s weaned now, anyway. And a little miniature, but she’s got more than enough magic to defend herself from _wizards_.” 

Luna slowly reached out and wrapped her hand around the snorkack. Emrys laughed almost silently, trying to keep the snorkack calm. Avenly was a little ball of fluff, with tiny buds on her head that would grow with her, curling around her skull. She was still white, but her hair would darken as she matured. Snorkacks were rare, even rarer than dragons. Avenly’s mother had said no wizard (or witch) had seen them since before her own many-greats grandsire’s time. 

“How?” Luna whispered, bringing her other hand around as she cupped Avenly between her palms, gently pulling Avenly back to her chest. She kept glancing between Emrys and Avenly but Emrys didn’t explain. 

He simply said, “She’ll change her size when threatened. She’s vegetarian, mostly, but the Kitchen Elves will provide her with the proper food. And Luna,” he added, waiting for her to meet his eyes before finishing, “if she ever decides someone needs to be eaten, let her. Snorkacks, especially the crumple-horned ones, are the best judges of character in the world.” 

Luna nodded seriously and then stared murmuring little nothings to Avenly, so Emrys pulled out his latest novel about King Arthur and read for the rest of the trip. 

.

Half the students didn’t return for the New Year. None of the muggleborns in any House had come back, except for Emrys and Hermione Granger of Gryffindor. Only the Slytherin and Gryffindor halfbloods had returned, and while the Professors Carrow seemed delighted, they were the only ones. 

Nobody spoke of any of it; not even Malfoy had bothered Potter about it, which most of the students had seemingly been waiting for. Malfoy had just glanced across the Great Hall at Ganger next to Potter and turned back to Zabini. For his part, Potter was glaring at the Head Table, though Emrys couldn’t tell if the look was directed to the Carrows or headmaster.

.

All of the classes were shadows of their former selves. Jolly Professor Sprout was the most obvious about her feelings, but even the formidable Professor McGonagall was simmering with suppressed rage. 

“Be careful, Donahue,” Professor Snape told Emrys the first night. His voice was soft, face expressionless, when he added, “You are the only target left undefended.” 

Emrys could think of a few replies to that, but all he said was, “Thank you, sir.”

.

“Donahue,” Ms. Professor Carrow said at the beginning of class, “why are you still here?” 

Emrys kept his voice entirely pleasant when he said, “To learn magic, ma’am.”

His classmates kept their gazes on their desks, but Emrys was really tired of playing games. What were these two even doing here? Why hadn’t Dumbledore, widely regarded as the greatest wizard in the world, done something when Harry Potter stumbled down the hall, bruised and bloody? Where were all the responsible adults? 

“Your kind don’t belong here,” Ms. Professor Carrow hissed, fingers on her wand, and Emrys did not lower his gaze, did not look away. 

Hogwarts hummed, low and deep, and light flashed when Carrow pulled out her wand. 

The remaining Carrow shouted, “Alecto!” and the students all dove beneath the tables, even Emrys, because he could have no idea what was going on. But he knew. 

Hogwarts’ wards were finally waking up because she was _angry_. 

.

Mr. Professor Carrow left Hogwarts in the middle of the day, with tension tight in the air around him. The ward stones glowed in the walls, in the floor, and Headmaster Dumbledore seemed a hundred years older than he had that morning.

“Albus,” Professor McGonagall murmured, Emrys listening though he was on the other side of the school, in the kitchens with all the elves of Hogwarts. 

“Things are happening too quickly, Minerva,” the headmaster said. “All my plans are slipping through my fingers, and I do not know why.” He sighed heavily. “Whatever it is, it began with the dragons, and I haven’t the faintest idea.” 

Emrys quit listening and smiled at Lolly. “Have you spoken to all the clans?” 

“Yes, Great Lord,” she said. “We Elves do not know what we will choose, but we desire the choice.” 

Emrys closed his eyes and felt for the magic; it was old, older than Hogwarts by far, a different kind entirely, but it was still a chain, and chains could be made to rust. He didn’t shatter the binding, the way he had with the dragons – he just sent a crack along the entire length, that elves themselves could break, if they chose to. 

He opened his eyes to gaze down at them, and he smiled. 

.

The minister stormed into the Great Hall with aurors and Emrys felt a great sense of déjà vu. “Dumbledore!” Minister Fudge shouted. He pointed at the Headmaster, ordering, “Arrest him!” 

Headmaster Dumbledore stood. “Prefects,” he said calmly, “escort all the students to their common rooms. Word will be sent if tomorrow’s classes are cancelled.” 

Minister Fudge and his aurors stood in the middle of the Hall while the students all filed out and Emrys threw one glance over his shoulder to watch Headmaster Dumbledore sedately walk to meet the Minister. 

_He does have style,_ Emrys admitted to Aithusan before turning to follow his housemates. 

.

Headmaster Dumbledore was at breakfast and the only class cancelled was DADA.

Slowly, the students trickled back into Hogwarts; DADA remained cancelled for the rest of the year. Arthur was one of the first to return and he pulled Emrys to the Hufflepuff table with him. Emrys helped his yearmates catch up with classes, and some of the first to fourth years asked him to, as well. 

A few days before the end of the year, Draco Malfoy was pulled from Hogwarts the same morning it was announced officially that the Dark Lord Voldemort had, indeed, returned. Also, in a completely unexplained fashion, over half the House Elves in the UK had vanished. 

“I don’t understand any of this,” Arthur said, shoving the _Daily Prophet_ aside. 

Emrys shrugged. “You’ve no need to worry, Arthur,” he said. 

Arthur gave him a sharp look but stayed silent. The rest of the Hufflepuffs, like everyone else, was busily speculating. Emrys glanced from Harry Potter to Dumbledore before turning back to his breakfast. 

.

On the ride back to London, Arthur asked Emrys, “What will happen now?” 

“Well, I suppose it’ll be war,” Emrys said. “But that doesn’t stop life, does it?” He snorted. “Besides the obvious, I mean.”

Rolling his eyes, Arthur said, “I mean, do you think they’ll close the school?” 

Emrys shook his head. “It’s the safest place in Britain, isn’t it? That’s what all the books say.”


End file.
